Soap and scales
by TheDragonPhylakas
Summary: Spyro faced many tasks of epic proportions throughout his painstakingly rugged journey, yet when all seems calm, a new danger arises. The threat of... Poor hygiene descents upon our oblivious hero. How will Spyro, a simple swamp dweller turned legend, cope with the civilized ways of Dragon culture? -Oneshot-


**Hello to all the readers. I decided to take a short productive break from my main Spyro fic and write a fun light-hearted oneshot featuring yours truly, Spyroooo! This is much more jolly than my usual dark themes, but it was worth the try. A big thanks to my beta-reader AtlasFF, his story, Tango, is worth checking too. With that said, let's procceed to the main course!**

Pulling the world back together was a peaking moment for any dragon, no one could genuinely go higher than that. Spyro was nothing more than a living legend walking amongst common people, his deeds far exceeded that of any other famed dragons or warriors throughout the realms. Many of them having more years' experience than the young dragon had years living on the planet.

After all, it was an endgame for Spyro.

The savior wasn't just unstoppable though, thankfully for all the lucky dragonesses who ached to meet him, he was real eye-candy too. The multitude of females to choose from had come as a real shock to him.

The exhausted, drained dragon had barely recovered from a battle of epic proportions against the Dark Master before he was swarmed by his own kin back in Warfang. Even he, a perfect representative in the flesh, succumbed to his sore muscles' silent pleas for recuperation after flying for days on end only to collapse at the gates of Warfang as the cheering on his behalf went on.

He really wasn't the type of person to take the choking attention lightly.

Despite him being out of commission now, a certain dragoness was still up and running, ready to take care of his every need. There was no other female he would rather have by his side. A gentle rock to keep him anchored to the ground should he ever drift too far into the clouds.

Cynder had carried him over to the Guardians, who in their turn, out of awe and gratefulness for their savior, offered him the best accommodations inside the grandest manor Warfang had to offer. A bit much by his basic standards, but he remained grateful to their offer.

Spyro groaned lightly, oblivious to his surroundings. His eyes struggled to get a clear view of the room he was in; through squinted eyelids, he hardly spotted a warm sunray with fuzzy vision.

It was then that he got a feeling of the surface he lay on, soft and squishy, hadn't the dragon known better, Spyro would've thought it was one of the giant mushrooms he used to settle on back in his swamp.

He deduced that he either died from his injuries or was simply dreaming about one of those cozy mushrooms and sunk his head back into the velvety material.

That was when it occurred to him.

Where was Cynder?

The only way to find out whether this was a dream or not was to see her, he remembered that they both made it out from the core of the world.

Her welfare was infinitely more important than his, there was no doubting that.

As he stretched his paws to get a good grip on the plump surface, he found out he was trapped by the silky cover. After a few twirls, one of his bandaged legs broke free, his eyes opened from slits to googly orbs, frantically seeking to escape the clutches of the malevolent fluffy constrictor.

After a minute of pointless writhing, his panic subsided, he mentally checked to find all his limbs still intact. The freed claw had torn apart a patch of fabric on his pillow, the stuffing pouring out on the bed.

He settled on the material again, scolding himself for fearing a blanket, a very right, annoyingly tucked blanket.

And there was no mushroom either, he was lying on a comfy bed, the creaking suffering wooden frame after his hysterical outburst was evidence of that.

How he missed his puffy mushroom bed…

But alas, there was no time to dwell on the past, the future was ahead and welcoming of him.

No Apes or Dark Army to fight, no Malefor to rip the world a new one, no life or death matters to settle.

A problem-free life he earned with blood and sweat.

"Dude, you reek like the bamboo paper the Atlawa use to wipe their bums."

If only that were true.

His hazy visibility cleared after he shook his head a few times, getting rid of the splotches of darkness that obscured the way ahead.

The familiar voice boomed in his eardrums, the grip of unconsciousness was still secure on his sore abdomen, he raised a brow and scanned the dimly lit room for a seemingly invisible individual.

A golden glow stood out like a sore thumb next to the doorway, add the voice into the mix, and you've got none other than…

"SPARX!"

Spyro was relieved to see a friendly face, he despised waking up alone in an unfamiliar place, the Chronicler had made sure of that with his previous dreamland training sessions.

He jerked his upper half forward, attempting to sit on his back, his quaking stuff bones had other plans, however. His orbs almost popped out from their sockets at the painful jolts shooting up his limbs and the pangs in his heart. The welcoming warmth of the sheets didn't seem so bad suddenly.

"Gah! I'm deadbeat…" He slumped back.

Sparx fluttered towards his grounded brother.

"Be glad you're not just dead."

The dragonfly mused, his tiny hands squeezed the purple nose, as he pulled him into a bear hug or at least a miniature one, size differences and all never posed an obstacle in their brotherly relationship.

"Where's Cynder?" Spyro released the brewing worry building up in his soul, as leaned into the hug.

Sparx twitched in irritation. "Oh boy, welcome to another episode of, tracking down the drama queen. Am I getting a sense of Deja vu here?"

"I was just sticking to my calling."

"Dude, we spent an entire sequel searching after her, because you decided to get lovesick on literally the only absolutely worst night in a 365-yearly cycle, guess how that worked out!"

"Touché, but I still regret nothing."

"Ignitus would beg to differ."

Something snapped in Spyro's heart at the sound of that, his shoulders slumped, and he exhaled sharply.

"Ignitus… I wish I could have done something; I could have done something. My neglection led to things breaking apart, I was lucky to pick up the pieces literally at the very last moment."

Sparx shut his trap as soon as he mentioned Ignitus, in an especially sarcastic manner. Getting to finally see your brother after such a traumatic experience and blowing it was a testament to his insensitive behavior.

"Well, I'm… That came out a little harsh."

Downcast eyes were evidence of his unwillingness to respond.

"C' mon now big fella, here I'll say it… You even lost a little weight."

Spyro snorted, his held back tears subsided, losing Ignitus was more than a quick punch to the gut, it was long term guilt and an even greater sorrow that would plague his waking and dreaming life for years to come.

Coping with the loss was the least he could do, live on to continue in his footsteps.

Sparx's clap on his purple cheeks snapped him out of the deep trance.

"Alright, drop the somber topic, you're supposed to be ecstatic for today."

"How so?"

"Well, Cynder didn't tell me where she was going, but the Guardians must know for sure. Apparently, I'm too untrustworthy to keep a secret."

"Yeah, I wonder how she concluded that!"

Spyro threw his paws in the air and shrugged, he really anticipated seeing Cynder. What she was planning for tonight was a mystery that left him both mildly terrified and giddy.

It had only been moments later after they both woke up to a repaired world, that they embraced the feelings they had for each other, yet Spyro had so much to learn about her still. He'd make it his priority to spend as much time as he could by her side.

"Dude, she told me all about the events after you left for the burned lands, including the confession. Give her some time."

"What's with you keeping me away from her? That jealous, huh?" The dragon grinned smugly

Sparx rose a hand to his chest and faked an indignant huff. "Me? Jealous? I'm not as dependent as you, lover boy. I'm a free dragonfly, able to stretch my wings as far as the sun. Heck, I even carried your lazy hide through all these hardships."

"Right… My throat is dry. All this volcanic ash takes a toll on your lungs."

Spyro was grateful to spot a pitcher brimming with crystal clear water propped next to the bed, along with two glasses. However, his thirst was ravaging his barren throat, leading to him emptying the contents of the pitcher directly in his mouth.

As he gulped mouthfuls of water Sparx's eyes lit up as if he had forgotten something important.

"Oh, did I mention the whole city is throwing a party in your honor tonight. Guess who's hosting?" He pointed both thumbs at his chest.

Spyro's orbs popped from their sockets, he wretched and spit a glob of water on the mattress as he hacked violently, caring naught for the mess he made.

"What!" He uttered between coughs "Whose idea was this?"

"Call it a joint initiative between the old dudes, me and your girlfriend. What's the matter, afraid of fun?"

"You precisely know what's the matter! It's your fault in the first place."

"Elaborate."

Spyro jumped on all fours and pointed an accusing talon at his brother. "Back at the swamp, we were five years old. The village through the New Year's Fest and I was perched on my usual spot, overlooking the fun."

"Oh yeah! I remember, good times."

"Oh, it was fantastic! Until you snuck up on me with a giant flesh consuming spider that I still don't know how you got possession of to this day and scared me into falling on top of the ceremonial lanterns."

Sparx snorted. "You make it sound more dramatic than it actually was."

"It was awful! Our friends passed me for a live pinata and whacked me with sticks!"

"In my defense, I tried to stop them."

"You sprayed my snout with pomegranate juice and left me dangling on the vines till morning." Spyro vented out his frustration.

"Say what you want, this prank really made you a reputation." Sparx hid behind an innocent grin.

"You're a cruel brother Sparx."

"You could've thanked me at least once for showing some tough love, you'd be a squishy softie now hadn't I been there to straighten you up."

"Ah, you… This is abuse… How is that even…"

The boiling purple dragon pinched his temple with a claw and exhaled a puff of smoke, going off at his brother was not the ideal way to start off his clean slate. Internally, he wasn't furious at Sparx. That didn't mean his antics never got to his nerves of course.

Just as they were both on the verge of voicing, they loathe in a rather vulgar uncivilized manner the door to the chamber clicked, heavy footsteps thudded outside belonging to one of Spyro's closest friends and mentor, Volteer.

"Spyro! Such a joyous, relieving, astounding chance to see you alive and have the incredible opportunity to converse with you in a more private environment."

Sparx facepalmed, where did this old boombox find all this energy?

"Hello! I'm here too in case your aging sight didn't pick me up."

The recovering dragon rolled his eyes and ignored Sparx, playing along Volteer's game, he bowed slightly in respect to his elder.

"It's a pleasure to see you in good spirits too. I was actually on my way to see you."

"Always the humble one I see. No need for mannerisms anymore though. In fact, the circumstances demand I should be the modest one in your presence, after bearing witness to your stupendous, sizzling, awe-inspiring feat. Pleasantries aside, I'm saddened deeply to find out you had a rough awakening."

He motioned towards the tattered sheets and clawed pillow, Spyro flustered and shrugged his shoulders innocently.

"We'll fix that right? I'm really sorry about it."

He poured himself some more water as the dryness brewing in his throat made his voice go hoarse.

"Oh, that's no big deal bro. We'll bill it on your personal account. You're swimming in gems, courtesy of your heroic deeds." Sparx popped.

Spyro spewed more water on the floor, deducting it'd be best to not mix big surprises and liquids.

"My own account?"

Volteer chuckled at his obliviousness. "Your own treasure vault to be precise. A hefty donation from adoring fans and the collected grateful populace of Warfang. An estimate of-"

"Only 30000 gems, pfft… Cheap peasants. It's not like we prevented their impending doom or something."

Both pairs of draconic eyes glared daggers at the dragonfly, who's vibrant glow was toned down significantly. Had Spyro grown larger in just three days?

"I can never express my gratitude enough, and honestly I don't think I deserve it. What is the use of all these gems anyway? We're better off giving them away to those who require healing."

Volteer laughed heartily. Such kind-hearted and the real dragon he had the honor to mentor, despite his ignorance of the draconic way of life.

"Your eagerness to provide for those who are in need is praiseworthy, even unfathomable Spyro, but as you may have noticed, gems are more than mere healing factors reserved for physical needs. They are also an invaluable trading object alongside gold coins with which their trade value is estimated."

Spyro's eyes dozed off, and he sank on the floor, unsure of how to respond. Sparx facepalmed for a second time.

"He means you're filthy rich and can buy anything at your heart's content numbskull."

"Mind I suggest you start off with a day at Warfang's private bathhouse reserved for high profile citizens. I'm definitely undoubtedly positive they got it back-up and in fully operational condition and you, my friend, seem to need some R&R."

He added these last few words with a wave of his paw as if the air carried a stench, he wanted to get rid of.

"Um, why would I need to go there, I feel perfectly fine, minus a few itchy bandages that are bugging me."

Sparx didn't maintain the same tack Volteer was sporting, blunt demeanor was his appropriate type.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Do the world a favor and throw yourself in the tub."

Spyro's sizzling confusion had him shifting his glance between Volteer and Sparx, struggling to make sense of all this. The puzzled face looked as if it were about to flood with tears, despite the triviality of his situation.

Volteer sighed, it wasn't often that he had no words to say.

Spyro still had to learn a lot about dragon customs and socially acceptable behavior.

These two factors were embedded into the unique blend called dragon culture and all adhered to the explicit social laws. Legendary dragon or not, fitting in was mandatory for his initiation into adulthood.

"Spyro, excuse my rude, invasive, ignorant self, yet I can't help but request knowledge of your daily hygiene tending habits."

Sparx leaned against his brother's horn. "Oh, that… You can already tell from here how his daily routine goes."

Spyro had a claw up to his chin, lost deep in pensiveness. "Well, I did use to spit on the floor to get rid of a mouthful of swamp water in case I had a small accident, stuff's tasted horribly. Other than that, no, my hygiene's perfectly in order."

He flared his wings to highlight his "point."

Volteer was struck by sheer awe, that didn't necessarily mean it was of the right kind. "Then you'd best be on your merry way. Remember not to keep the city waiting for you today, this is all about you."

"And Cynder…"

"Yes, yes, Cynder too. Off you go now young one, enjoy your clean slate." He managed to slow down his pace just for that specific word to be heard audibly.

The two brothers vacated the room, leaving a befuddled Volteer who paced around the room in deep thought.

"He'll wrap his head around it eventually."

Spyro wandered in the stretchy roads of Warfang, gaining the attention of every set of eyes that fell on him. Just having their savior walk amongst them, feeling his divine presence gracefully swirling between them, instilled a sense of security on the war-plagued citizens.

"Sparx?"

"Right behind you bro. What are you up to?"

Spyro scratched his neck awkwardly. "About that… Did I mention I'm lost?"

"Say no more my clueless brainlet. I'll be your guide to perfection. You're still far from it."

"I was just wondering if we could maybe grab a bite…" He didn't like where this was going.

"Tsk tsk… Food is not your priority now. Don't make me take back what I said about your weight issues."

"Is that it?"

Sparx squinted his eyes and zipped in front of his snout, after making sure no more prying eyes and most importantly ears spied on their interaction.

"Spyro take a good look at yourself."

He complied, straining his neck to examine his flanks and well-toned muscular legs.

"See? If by weight issue you mean pure muscle mass, then we can leave this topic behind us."

"It's not about your weight dummy! You look like a walking mud cake."

"So, you're leading me to the public bathhouse. Why are you so insistent?"

"Are you that daft? I'm saving your hide here! You've never had a bath your entire life, jumping from one adventure to the other without taking just one moment to wash the grime."

"Nonsense, you never mentioned before. Plus, I did sort of slip and fell in the Ancient Grove's river once."

"But that was three years ago, and the water was poisonous toxic waste, you're better off hurling yourself into a lava pit."

Sparx rolled his eyes and sighed heavily before continuing. "It was funny the first ten years, but now it started to get annoying. It's about time you had a proper physical overhaul."

Spyro squinted his eyes into slits, his death glare pierced Sparx. "Well, I'm not buying this load of ape dung. Since when you started caring for my sake?"

Sparx was cornered there, his brother's immunity to deceptive tactics was getting to him.

It was probably part of growing up, although that wouldn't be the case here since his brother, a fierce warrior who bore through unimaginable challenges refused to take a single Ancestor's accursed bath.

If that wasn't a sign of immaturity, he didn't know if it was something else.

"I have my reasons. Can't just stroll about with a stinky animal basking in my shade, I made a rep and intend to keep it unscathed."

Spyro faked a pretentious laugh, yet a brief hint of bitter defeat could sound in his voice.

"So, you are positive I have the problem, while maybe you're the only one with it and dare I say, a bit jealous." He sported a sardonic smirk, it felt good to stand up to Sparx for virtually the first time. He almost felt like a new Spyro, a cockier, obnoxious Spyro.

Nah, acting all the time cheekily just wasn't cut out for him, maybe in another parallel universe, but not this one.

He also wished there was a parallel universe where Sparx had his mouth sewed.

Sparx glanced sideways and waved merrily for all to see. "Oh look, the mighty purple dragon is accepting audiences from his adoring fans brave enough to encounter him. Go get 'em oh marv' one."

As if on cue, contained dragons, moles and all sorts of other creatures formed a circle around them, leading Spyro into yet another flummoxed state.

"What! No, I'd best be on my way."

Wherever the flustered famed dragon turned he met barriers of other dragons larger and burlier than his scrawny frame, yet all looked up to him without a care for their own manners or pride.

Sparx glanced at him with an evil smirk and crossed his arms behind his head, adopting a relaxed posture. "And now we wait for your unattractiveness to do its work."

Overwhelmed and whimpering Spyro huddled closely against a wall, he clawed at the rock in a panicky manner. The cheers went on louder, yet he despised every moment of it.

"Sparx?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I mention you are a cruel brother?"

Sparx faked an aching heart and with a groan fell on top of the purple head. "You wound me Spyro, I was just doing this for your own good."

Amongst the crowd all sorts of angry comments were thrown, some positive and some negative. One thing was for sure.

They were all directed at poor Spyro, furthering his anxiety, especially those that went overboard.

"I wanna court him."

"I wanna be like him."

Spyro curled into a ball. "A little privacy would be greatly appreciated."

As if he was completely ignored the comments went on.

"It's hard to believe he's killed so many, he's barely a teenager."

"Who are you to judge you lazy bum?" Another voice retorted.

"Ew, what is that stench?"

"Ancestors! My nasal cavity is assaulted mercilessly."

Many cries of anguish spurted from the bustling crowd, which steadily dissipated, the perpetrator of the invasive smell still unknown.

Spyro took the opportunity to tiptoe his way out of the tight situation, intimidated and partly ashamed due to never having backed down from an encounter. He honestly preferred being surrounded by a group of punchable apes. At least he could deal with them directly.

But a crowd of crazed worshippers.

That was a zone he wasn't prepared to enter, especially with the new found knowledge of his poor hygiene.

As they ducked into an alley, Sparx applauded sarcastically.

"Wow! I need to start taking notes. You really know how to handle yourself publicly. I think I even saw a bit of piss staining the floor before you beat it with your tail tucked between your legs."

Spyro was fuming, puffs of smoke emanating from his nostrils, he balled his paws into fists and bared his fangs. "Sparx, if this is what you've messed up a sense of humor has devolved into then you better scram off."

"Sheesh tough guy, I was just teaching you a lesson."

Spyro faltered, the truth hit him hard, yet he kept on with his accusation. "A very inefficient lesson that proved nothing."

"Do I need to holler for your fans again? Or do we just skip straight to the part where Cynder must put up with dirty ol' you?"

As much as he hated to admit it, his fate had already been sealed, he'd just succumb to Sparx's nuisances and bathe, whatever that meant.

"Does this challenge involve any sort of physical pain?" He requested calmly through gritted teeth.

"Only if you want it to."

Spyro sighed defeated and tagged along, this couldn't be the worst experience he ever had, not by a longshot.

This was by far the single most painstaking experience he ever had the displeasure of enduring in all his miserable war-plagued life.

"Okay, you can pull me out please."

He was neck deep forced into the crystal-clear waters of the private bathhouse, subjected to immense torture apparently from the strikingly beautiful faun personnel who run the place.

"Relax Master Spyro, this sanative water is supposed to rejuvenate your spirits and sore body after all your brave endeavors. Just lose yourself into it."

All Spyro could do was struggle meekly as the oddly scented water slipped on him, taking away the grime, swamp particles and even caked blood away, instilling a shine in his scales the world had never seen before.

Sparx looked up from above with a proud smirk.

"Oh! So that's what your scales are supposed to look like, another few years without a bath and they'd call you the Moss dragon."

"This is making me feel uncomfortable on so many levels."

"Just don't drop the soap pal."

"Soap? What's that?"

"Oh dude, this is golden."

As if on cue a faun hopped in the water, possessing pillows full of holes and bottles of unknown substances.

"I swear to the Ancestors! Keep all that stuff away from me, or I'm gonna freeze the water!"

He moved frantically, splashing water left and right, the annoyed fauns patiently held onto his limbs and tried to be as less invasive as they could. They aimed to treat their hero with respect, but he made it especially hard on them.

They pinned his head underwater; the poor dragon didn't really want to hurt anybody. He was just scared of this new way of life and the uncalled-for surprises it bodes.

He closed his eyes in anticipation of something horrific that would scar him for life. The fauns took that as a sign to get to work.

"Girls… Let's get him."

And the scrubbing began.

They assaulted his uncared hide as tanners did on goat leather, only they used sponges and aromatic soaps.

Spyro gurgled underwater, choking on his own fear, this was totally way less painful than he imagined.

"I wonder how you even fly around with all this dirt on your back. At least now we know what killed those poor apes."

"You'll pay… Spa-" He desperately tried to speak but succeeded in getting soap on his tongue. Even if the stuff smelled pleasant, its taste was bitter and made him wretch. Of all the dragons in the world, what did he do to deserve punishment after doing the greatest good imaginable?

The sponges were violently scrubbing on his back and then shifted to his belly, the rigid scales smoothened over time under the relentless attack. For all he knew, these freaky sponge-wielding creeps had more sinister goals in mind.

"Listen, I appreciate you goat-people for your kindness, but it's not like I need to be pampered right? I'm the purple dragon, can take care of my- OUCH! I CAN'T SEE!"

Spyro flailed his legs and kicked a poor faun in the shins, she flinched and retreated, the rest gasped in shock.

"We're fauns, you dork!" The supposed leader of the group snapped back and went immediately to clean his eyes, bloodshot from all the soap that had accidentally slipped in.

"Ah, it's in my eyes… Yes, it's in my eyes. I was forced to taste the atrocious poison, and now it has turned me blind."

His eyes watered, he hadn't cried this much since Ignitus died and those were actual sorrowful tears of grief, not the result of a demonic concoction.

"I'm sorry master, but cleanliness is vital in your situation, and you aren't helping us here."

Sparx was having the time of his life, doubling down on laughter.

"If this is an assassination attempt, you're all doing good so far."

Spyro garbled, the rumbling noises and guttural growls he emanated were accompanied by pink bubbles of soap bursting from his nostrils. Even his elemental ability was suppressed, these fauns were up to no good!

He bared his fangs in a predatory fashion, trying to look as intimidating as a dragon, but being subjected to intensive scrubbing while your body is covered in pink fluff takes away the predator.

"The sooner we are done, the faster you spare me from further unneeded humiliation. I'm not good with threatening, so I ask nicely."

One of the fauns snickered audibly, she leaned back and grabbed an unknown object, short and concealed like a dagger, bringing it closer to his snout. His puffy red eyes caught her from the corner of his vision, and he was quickly in a defensive posture.

"Don't even think about it…" He whispered with poison dripping from his tongue.

"Spyro, that's just a toothbrush."

"I don't care what your instruments of torture are called, get it away from me… Ah! I blinked again, cursed soap!" His teeth were gritted tightly like, yellow from neglection, still more than capable of tearing anything to shreds, nonetheless.

Perfect opportunity from the agitated faun to give them a good brush and save this dragon from certain dental cavities in the future.

Spyro couldn't protest further as he got pinned down again with a toothbrush, a puny brittle toothbrush of all things! He motioned a pleasing gaze at Sparx for help, who faked not hearing him.

"I'm sorry bud, I can't hear you over all this scrubbing."

After a good hour of proper tending, the fauns pulled him out of the hot water, deducing he was free from bacteria and other contaminating microbes, safe to roam amongst the educated populace of Warfang.

Sparx chuckled at the sight of the plump pink cloud of bubbles and soap walking somberly out of the pool, an unenthusiastic tail was attached at the end of said cloud. He hovered in front of what he supposed was the face and called.

"Hey Spyroooo, you in there? I can hear your sulking."

Spyro snorted, breaking his pink camouflage so that his snout protruded. "Lesson learned: I'm never bathing again."

All attendants in the room let out a combined sigh. When it came to stubbornness, leave it to Spyro to show you its meaning.

Cynder was right, he was a persistent little fella.

One of the fauns giggled and confronted him. "You gotta stand up now."

"Wait, there's more?"

"Oh, you cutie… We can't leave you hanging with all this soap on you."

"Fair enough." He commented and stood on his hind legs, eager to finish this challenge. The fauns immediately approached with towels and dried his brand-new shiny hide.

"Hey savior, you don't look so bad now. You should come to revisit us in case you need a good scrub."

Spyro looked over himself, he was pretty sure this was what his purple scales should really look like, and he didn't mind the sense of refreshment and minty breath. He neared a mirror and tugged at his gums, pearly white teeth greeted him back, not to mention the vibrant silver claws, they were always muddy ever since he could remember. The oily appearance and aromatic brews bestowed upon his scales highlighted his trained muscle rippling beneath. To say he was ungrateful for the treatment would be an understatement.

The fauns observed the intrigued over his new style dragon with polite smiles. "Well? Should we count on you to appear more often?" The same faun seemed too anxious for his response.

Spyro scratched his neck nervously. "Yeaaaah… About that…"

Before anyone could react, he was gone in a flash, a Spyro-like smoke frame left where he used to stand. Sparx threw his hands in the air and flew after him, shouting on the way.

"Excuse my brother, he's still struggling with the fact that females exist."

The faun was left gawking and disappointed, a second one placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret Elora, you'll get your chance."

After the minor bath incident, all was left to do was to wait patiently for nighttime, when the fest in the savior's honor commenced. The whole city participated, the era of rebuilding would start with a positive attitude, everyone would make the best of the situation.

Except for Spyro who was busying himself with a glass of unknown contents, wondering why the liquid inside left a burning sensation in his mouth.

Throughout the party, he had greeted Ancestors know how many people he did not even recognize, received many gifts and words of appreciation and even flirtatious compliments about his looks. At least something good came out of that bath, he just wished he had someone to share these moments of respite with.

Sparx was out of the question, as soon as they joined in on the fun, he ditched him over a company of massive brutish dragon warriors who fought in the war, entertaining them with tales of his heroic deeds that saved the world.

With a little help from the purple dragon of course.

He gave up at some point and flopped on his decorated seat. This was not what he expected his new life to look like.

"I didn't take you for a party animal, yet here you are confirming my suspicions."

His head perked up, that voice was all he wanted to hear. He turned his head left then right, searching desperately for his muse.

"Cynder? I know I heard you."

"On the balcony."

He got up discreetly and slithered through the groups populating the dining hall, he followed Cynder's voice, yet failed to spot her. The small journey led him to a flower embellished balcony, all alone.

His obliviousness would be the death of him one day, he checked the area, no Cynder in sight. Upon giving up he perched himself on a ledge, droopy eyelids obscured his view of the starry night sky, he counted the constellations silently, hoping this was all just a bad dream.

A hot breath stroked the nape of his neck, shortly after two black legs wrapped around his waist alerted him to the presence of the only dragoness he craved for.

"Cynder you- OH ANCESTORS! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LEGS?"

He looked at a short half Cynder planted on the ground, her hind legs nowhere to be seen. She giggled uncontrollably in response, then jumped out of the shadow she was sunk in, presenting him a full view of her body.

"Relax you scaredy cat, I was just snaking my way around in the shadows."

So that was why he couldn't see her.

He felt so dumb.

"You sent my heart pounding to the next week."

"And I plan to take it even further."

She snuggled up to him, pushing their leaning frames against the edge of the balcony, to the point where Spyro had to stand on his toes to avoid losing balance.

"You really wanna go overboard tonight, eh?"

"I wanna be out of here as a matter of fact."

"Your wish, my command."

He squeezed her paw and tugged at it her briefly, before leaping off the balcony

Without coming back up.

The realization that Spyro might have gotten hurt in trying to impress her dawned too late on Cynder, who immediately scampered to search for him. He had completely vanished.

"Spyro? Oh, no..."

Then out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed his rise again with prideful wing and chuckling.

"Revenge comes first, who's the scared cat now?"

Cynder grinned maliciously and leaped to catch him in the air with her claws. He squeaked briefly.

"You're an imbecile." She then proceeded to push him, and with an acrobatic backflip, she took to the sky.

"And it takes more than that to scare me."

He huffed, not buying her lie, yet he played along for the sake of her comfort. The guilt of scaring his love settled down on his shoulders, even if it was payback and merely a harmless joke.

He hated being the cause of sadness, it reminded him of a dark era long gone.

They flew far away from the party and out of Warfang, landing in a forest clearing that caught their eye, the brimming moonlight shined through twenty crevices formed by tightly huddled tree barks. Perfect spot for the two of them to focus on each other. Spyro sat relaxed on the grass and fixed his gaze on the divine body.

She had taken her time to care for her aesthetics too, a real treat she was. From polished claws to preened scales and ivory horns, there was no flaw Spyro could pinpoint on her. He could just lay back and stare all day, feasting on her with alluring eyes. He couldn't deny Cynder had a stunning appearance twenty-four hours a day, but the night revealed so much more about her qualities. It was in her element after all.

She was a small piece of the nightly sky that fell on the earth, blessing it with her gracious darkness.

Darkness he found more shining than the sun itself.

He was one lucky dragon for sure.

"I see you got a proper physical overhaul too, Spyro. You care that much for me?"

As much as he didn't want to admit it wasn't behind the idea, Spyro couldn't lie to Cynder, it was impossible to resist her. "It was actually Sparx who proposed that I'm not familiar with the draconic way of life yet, remember?"

Cynder laughed paced around him, admiring her protective stud, others would kill for a single kiss from Spyro, while she had swayed him over effortlessly and for all eternity. "Oh, the bug actually came up with a useful thought. I'll have to thank him later."

In an instant, she crept up on Spyro and bumped his snout with hers. "As for the draconic way of life. I'll teach you all about it this very moment. You deserve the normal lifestyle more than anyone."

She caressed his golden chest, palpitating for the racing heart beneath. Their lips locked into a deep passionate kiss.

This was everything Spyro had ever hoped for and more, an actual piece of heaven, of the Ancestor's Realm on earth. This was the closure both sought for.

Cynder cursed herself mentally for abandoning Spyro near the Night of Eternal Darkness. How could she have been so stupid? Searching for her drive in a non-existent far off place, while it stood beside her along. Their lives were tied from the very night of the Temple's ransacking, and she'd do nothing to shift the tides of destiny.

They broke the kiss, dreamy eyes met each other, Spyro had sunk a few notches in the grass from Cynder's weight.

"Great… After all of this, I still end up dirty."

She smiled at his antics, although she never got the meaning entirely. Nonetheless, she just basked in his company, pressing the side of her head on his chest against his chest, the thumping of his heart was her new favorite tune.

"Spyro?"

"Yes?"

"Will you be my mate?"

He flinched, that sounded like a serious question that left him baffled. "Um, I'm not familiar with the term."

Cynder sighed, of course, he didn't know. He was still far from the ideal dragon archetype, but he was hers, and that was all that mattered.

Dragon or not she loved him for being Spyro.

"It's a soul-partner, we become that after we engage in our mating ritual, then we can be a family and I can make sure you stay clean forever." She mused playfully.

He let out a low, thoughtful hum, stroking her back as he pondered.

"I think I'd like that."

She slithered closer to his snout again, the heat of their bodies swirling around them, keeping them warm despite the chilly night.

"We need to reach adulthood first, and that will take years."

"Cynder, whatever some undoubtedly important laws say I don't care. We can still love each other to pieces."

She grinned back, satisfied with the response. This dragon deserved the finest of rewards.

She kissed him again, on the throat this time, then planted a lick on his cheek.

He nuzzled in return with his chin. There was no other place in the world he'd prefer to be in.

They remained like that, bodies intermingling, paws exploring each other's tender scales and succulent lips sucking on each other with an unyielding passion.

That bath wasn't such a bad idea after all.

**Couldn't help myself but add every LOS fan's favourite ship in the end. Do you think Spyro learned a valuable lesson today? I learnt something alright, dirty or not, you may as well not give a damn if you're a winged mythical reptile that breathes fire. If not, then… get in a tub already! **

**As mentioned before, this story will have no continuation, I just wanted to expand my writing. Hopefully, you'll check my more serious noteworthy fic rather than this silly text or pm me for questions.**

**Nonetheless it's my silly text and I love it very very much so no flame, I'm gonna pour water on it. **

**Hope you enjoyed!**


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